I fumbled with my keys to open the apartment door. I felt like total shit. I had a mouth full of jagged stitches and gauze, a bruised tailbone, and a throbbing migraine. My right cheek and lips had swelled up painfully after the sutures were put in and a veritable palate of black and blue erupted on the side of my face. My right eye was slightly closed as a result. Soft jazz greeted me as I entered my apartment. I kicked off my shoes and walked toward the sofa, which I had proceeded to collapse across. Staring blankly at the equally blank flat screen TV, I could hear the soft pit-pat of bare feet on hardwood floors. Shortly after I could feel a weight by my legs, and a smooth hand running up my back from under my shirt.
"Long day?"
I groaned. "Like you wouldn't believe." A pair of lips briefly kissed the back of my neck. I turned and looked into the eyes of the owner of those lips. She smiled back warmly. As clichéd as it sounds, my pain vanished at the sight of her smile. "Mia…" I rolled onto my back and pulled her body on top of mine. Her lips graced mine, before her face morphed into a grimace. Her long auburn hair veiled her face
"Lana…your face. What happened?" A baby soft hand cups my swollen cheek. My hand instinctively covers hers.
"I'd rather not talk about it." I managed, quietly nuzzling into her palm; a pathetic attempt to get her to drop the subject. It failed.
She pulled her hand away. "Gant sent you in alone again didn't he?" Mia frowned, crossing her arms on her chest.
I looked up at her. "Well that's how it always works…"
Mia scoffed. "I positively loathe that job of yours." I repositioned myself and sat up on my elbows.
"Mia…it's what I do. It's how I learn the law. I can hardly be expected to expose criminals as a Prosecutor if I don't know what makes them tick." I pulled out the Beretta from its holster and unloaded the magazine, placing it on the coffee table. Mia looked at it with a sneer on her face. She absolutely hated guns. She made me store the Beretta in a lockbox in the hallway closet, along with my two prized Glocks. She didn't want the things in our bedroom.
"Well what about being shacked up with a chief defense attorney? Doesn't that count?" Mia pretended to pout.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Shacked up. Heh. You and your colloquialisms."
She swatted me playfully. "Let's shack up right now." She looked at her watch. "It's nearly 3:30 in the morning. We both have off tomorrow, let's sleep in!"
I groaned. 3:30AM. "What are you doing up this late?" As always, she looked perfect, with no signs of fatigue on her pristine face.
"I was helping Phoenix study for his torts exam, and helping him plan a study schedule for the bar." She stretched and yawned.
"Do you really think that dope is going to pass?"
Mia smiled warmly. "Of course he is. You passed it, and you're as dopey as they come. So I'm not too worried for Phoenix." She said with a smirk.
"Hey!"
She held out a hand to me and I placed mine in hers. She pulled me up to my feet. We embraced. Another kiss. "Let's go to bed dear. I'm exhausted."
"Phoenix wore you out?" I asked.
"No. That's your job." She said with a wink and I blushed. She led me into our bedroom.
A quick shower and teeth brushing later, I was spooning Mia on our bed. She was sound asleep, her metronomic breathing slowly lulling me. I hated having insomnia. I peered out at the moon through our 55th story apartment window. I pulled Mia closer to me and breathed in the scent of her hair. The gentle rise and fall of her chest pressed against mine is comforting as I lie awake for nearly two hours before finally succumbing to sleep…
